When Nothing is Mine
by fluxy2535
Summary: When British troops find Caspian half dead and barely aware of who he is in northern France, he's evacuated to London and put under the care of Dr. Alec Pevensie. Fortunately his son seems to know quite a bit about how to fix this boy when he doesn't.
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing:** Caspian/Peter (So... Slash. Like I write anything else...)

**Disclaimer:** Don't know or own, thanks.

**Author's Note: **Obviously with Amnesia cases it usually takes months for the patient to respond to anyone from his past, but I'm taking liberties since I don't intend to make this that many parts.

* * *

Alec had been a psychologist for years, and he had never seen a case like this.

He turned to the physician standing next to him, eying the boy through the glass of the door much like he had been. "What's his name?"

"Caspian." he responded, still keeping his eyes on the window, "The tenth."

Alec raised an eyebrow at his colleague. He had never heard a family name go down that far unless it was in a history book."The tenth?"

"The tenth. And he's from someplace called..." The doctor flipped through his paperwork, sighing, "Narnia. That's all he remembers."

"So he has amnesia," Alec pursed his lips and sighed through his nose, "Brilliant."

"And on top of that we found him in France, walking out in the open and not knowing where he is, without ID. He's lucky, though; If the axis would have found him, he'd be dead by now."

"Why would he be there, though? Spain is non-belligerent. There's no reason for anyone besides government personnel to be in France at this point in time."

"And I doubt government personnel would be dressed like they were preparing to do battle in 1342 instead of 1942."

Alec chuckled. The last thing he expected was to get a boy who refused to leave his sword anywhere but his side and was completely confused by everyone's reaction to it. It was odd, though; Spanish swords were quite different looking than the one clutched in his hand, from what he could remember. Alec had figured the daggers he had given up belonged to him, but the way the handle was formed on his sword was a dead give away that it wasn't of Spanish origin.

"I'll see what I can do."

The other doctor nodded, handing over the clipboard with Caspian's paperwork, "We've determined that it's dissociative, since there's no head injury, just scrapes and bruises on his body. Something must have happened to him to make him forget who he is. You just have to figure it out." He patted him on the shoulder, offering him a smile before he made his way down the hallway.

Alec sighed, fixing the glasses on his nose and stepping into the room.

"Hello."

Caspian showed no emotion, but his eyes still flickered to Alec's face, studying him as he played with the edge of his tunic.

"I'm Doctor Pevensie, though you can call-"

"Pevensie?" Caspian furrowed his brow. Why did that sound so familiar?

Alec raised an eyebrow. The notes had said the boy was almost completely unresponsive to anyone. "Yes?"

A handsome, boyish face suddenly flashed before Caspian's eyes, not totally unlike the man that stood before him, along with a name. "Peter?"

The older man frowned. "That's my son's name. How..."

"I-I don't know, to be honest. It was just... there. Peter Daniel Pevensie. And then gone."

* * *

"Pevensie!"

"Wha-"

"The question? King Charles I's execution?"

"Oh, um," Peter glanced down at the text book in his lap, searching for the answer, "Uh, Whitehall on the 30th of January, 1649?"

His professor raised an eyebrow, giving him a steady look, before he sighed, "Correct. Can anyone tell me what was happening when this event took place?"

Peter's head rested back down on his hand, and resumed not paying attention. History was, without a doubt, the most boring class he was subjected to. Most of the interesting bits that kept the boys in his class fascinated were similar to what he had gone through as king of Narnia, so all the class really was for him was memorizing dates and names of people that didn't matter anyway. So he did what anyone would do in a time like this; he daydreamed. And really, what else would he dream about except Narnia?

He was usually good at staying to a similar subject than what they studied. If they were studying some war that took place 300 years ago he would go over the battle strategies set in place during the wars in the northern wilderness. When they studied the Persians he would think of Calormen, their customs, and the wars they nearly got into fighting about slavery or the treatment of animals.

When they talked of kings, however, he only thought of Caspian.

Those were the days that it was hardest to focus. All he could think of was the sharp angles of his face, the soft skin of his lower back, or how he fit just right in to crook of Caspian's arm. Sometimes he would have such vivid daydreams that felt like he would wake up to the boy's soft snores and arm sprawled across his hips and find that he had really been dreaming of being in England, not the other way around. He was sure Caspian would laugh when he told him and kiss him on the bridge of his nose and tell him he wasn't allowed any of the dwarf's good beer before bed.

Someone knocked on the door, interrupting his professor's speech and knocking Peter out of his reverie. One of the boys who worked in the office opened the door and poked his head through, nodding when his eyes caught Peter's.

"Pevensie, You're to leave."

The class began to murmured amongst themselves, "What?"

He glanced down at the slip in his hands, "Your father's here, and has requested you go with him," He shrugged, "doesn't say what for, though..."

Peter looked at his teacher, who nodded, dismissing him. He packed up his things, wondering what his father could want and not really caring. Anything to get him out of his history lecture was fine by him.

* * *

"Now, you can't cause much strain to him Peter. The lad has so many mental problems already, and can't remember a thing. "

"Dad," He sighed, following after his father, "I don't even know why I'm here, and you're asking me to talk to this guy that I supposedly know when I don't even know why I would know him? You didn't even give me a name."

Peter hadn't been told anything, even in the confines of the hospital. His father had just picked him up without a word, and whenever he asked he just insisted that it was a military issue that he couldn't talk about and he would explain everything later.

"A few of the soldiers found a boy wandering about in Normandy. He was dressed like an old fashion knight, with a sword and everything to go along with it. We think he's a Spaniard, because of his accent, but he has a sword with a lion's head at the end of the handle and the blade is too heavy to-"

"What?" Peter froze, his heart constricting in his chest, "Caspian?"

His father's eyes widened, "So he's telling-"

"Where is he?"

"Through here," he nodded to the hall on his left, "You know him?"

"I- I just," Peter stopped, taking a deep breath, "You said he has amnesia?"

"Yes."

"Then why does he know who I am?"

"It's dissociative, so it's all mental instead of a physical head injury. Something must have traumatized him, and he's blocking out a good portion of his memories. He'll remember some things, but not everything; In this case he remembered your name, just didn't know how or why he remembered it."

Peter nodded, attempting to understand. "So he knows only my name."

"Right," Alec nodded, turning another corner and continuing to lead Peter to Caspian's room, "To be honest, you might have to explain who you are. There's a good chance that he won't remember anything of your friendship or his life with you in it."

_He doesn't remember loving me._

Peter stopped again, his head hurting at the thought.

His father poked his head out of what he was sure was Caspian's room, frowning, "Peter?"

"Coming dad."

Peter took a deep breath, attempting to calm his nerves, before walking the final five paces into the hospital room.

The first thing Peter noticed was Rhindon laying next to him on the bed, and his shield in a chair in the corner. Caspian was sitting up, and staring at him with a look of confusion on his face.

He attempted to keep his eyes on his father. He really did. He failed miserably, of course, but he didn't understand how he was supposed to keep his eyes from Caspian.

"Can you leave us be?"

Alec studied his son and the young man in the bed. Neither one would take their eyes of the other, and it was making him nervous. "Peter, I'm not-"

Peter glanced at his father, "Please dad. It'll make things that much easier. I promise."

"But with him having a sword..."

Peter smiled, "I could probably disarm him faster than he could harm me."

Alec frowned at that. Peter hadn't even taken fencing in school, yet knew how to use a sword? "So you two do know each other, then?"

Peter grinned at Caspian, who, despite the confusion, offered a small smile back, "To say the least."

"Okay, okay," Alec sighed, drawing the attention back to himself, "I'll leave you be. Don't be afraid to ask the nurses if you need anything, Peter."

He looked in between his son as his patient again before exiting the room.

"Hi."

Caspian chuckled, "Hello."

Peter sat at the side of Caspian's bed, his hands folded in his lap. "You don't have the foggiest idea who I am, do you?"

Caspian reached up, touching Peter's jaw with his finger tips. He tilted his face to the side, and Caspian's eyes raked over every feature.

"I do, sort of," he admitted softly, "Well, I recognize your face. I don't know why though..."

Suddenly, the image of Peter, curled up and asleep in bed be flashed before his eyes. He was shirtless, and something told Caspian that the bed was his, and not Peter's.

Caspian's hand dropped from his face, realization dawning on his features. "We were lovers?"

Peter laughed, fighting the urge to cry, "Yeah, we were."

"Oh, well," Caspian furrowed his brow, "This makes things interesting."

"To say the least."

* * *

Alec returned an hour later to find Caspian asleep. Peter was curled up on the bed as well, his head on the other boy's shoulder and an arm resting on his chest. One of Caspian's arms was curved around Peter's waist, his palm resting flat on his lower back where his son's shirt had rode up.

To anyone else it might have looked innocent, but Alec knew better.

He promptly turned around, leaving the room as soon as he entered. Somethings were just meant to stay secret, he was aware of that, but it didn't make the pain in his chest from knowing that his son was one of _those_ any less.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: don't know or own, thanks.

Author's Note: This is kind of horrible, but I didn't want you guys to have to wait three or four weeks for a new chapter so I figured I'd write and post something to hold you over. Updating might take a bit longer than usual, because my laptop's hard drive died, taking everything I've been working on for the last three months or so with it including my outline and the 30+ pages I had done for this story.

* * *

_The minute the wall of ice broke the tension between the two of them seemed to explode._

"_How could you do that?!"_

_Susan shot Caspian a sympathetic look before before making her exit, leaving them alone. _

"_I didn't know that is what he intended when he took me here. I am sorry, though... I could've killed you."_

"_Forget about me, You could have killed yourself!"_

"_I could have killed you," Caspian repeats, ignoring the way Peter rolls is eyes, "I wouldn't have been able to live with -" _

"_If you die than there's no purpose, you idiot! I die, that's no problem. You can still go on to make things right, take your crown. If you die, Miraz wins. The Narnians will be slaughtered. And even worse, I have to live without you knowing that if I would have just been there, if I would've just watched you closer, you would still be here."_

"_And I would have to deal with the same thing," Caspian gripped Peter's face in his hands, making sure the other boy was paying attention, "If you die, I might as well hand over everything the Miraz, including myself."_

"_You could do it," Peter sighs, the tension easing from his shoulders. "You could lead these people. Marry, have children..."_

"_I _couldn't_ Peter. Even if I wanted to. I can't just go off and find some woman to be my queen and forget you."_

_Peter frowned, "I don't understand."_

"_You don't understand?" Caspian laughs, "I'm completely in love with you."_

Caspian awoke with a warm weight pressed to his side. Peter was curled up against him, dozing with his head on his shoulder and his arm slung across his chest. He looked so small and childlike that Caspian couldn't help but smile.

It quickly turned into a grimace when he remembered his dream. He wished he could feel that way, like the dream him did. He knew somewhere in his heart he loved the boy, but with his memory in bits and pieces it made it hard to think of Peter as anyone but someone to trust in this world.

Peter sighed and shifted against him, sitting up. He rubbed at his face where the embroidery of Caspian's tunic had left lines, smiling shyly when he saw that the boy was awake. "Hi."

Caspian smiled back, "How did you sleep?"

"Fine," Peter yawned, "When did you wake up?"

Caspian shrugged, "A few minutes before you."

"Oh, good. You weren't awake long then." Peter smiled, grabbing his shoes from where he kicked them off on the floor to put them on.

"I had a dream about you."

Peter stopped untying his laces, trying to keep his face neutral when he looked at Caspian. "Oh?"

"Yes." Caspian frowned, trying to remember. Already the dream was slipping from him, "I had done something wrong, something to do with a witch."

"The white witch, probably," Peter murmured, knowing where this is going.

Caspian nodded, "That sounds right. You were furious at me. And then I said..."

"...that you loved me."

Caspian swallowed and nodded. "It is a memory, then?"

"Yes," Peter grinned, "it was the first time you said it." He laughed to himself, "I was so angry with you about it."

Caspian was almost hurt by the thought. "Why?"

Peter shrugged, "We were in the middle of a war. I had feelings for you, obviously, but couldn't show them. Could you imagine if one of us had died after realizing that we were in love? It would've been horrible."

Caspian wanted to tell him he felt horrible _now_, know that Peter loved him but he couldn't love him back. "It's odd. I don't- I mean, I know I _do_ love you, I just can't-"

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "You are missing the point, you know. Just the fact that you're aware of it is more than I could hope for right now."

Peter smiled at him, toeing on his shoes before leaving the room, and Caspian was surprised to find himself wishing he hadn't left.

* * *

Apparently, while they were sleeping, everything had been arranged. Caspian would come stay with Peter when he was let out of school in a week, as the doctors agreed that Caspian was fine physically, and Peter was the only one that could possibly help him regain his memory. Peter, Lucy, and Edmund were to be spending the summer holiday with Professor Kirke while his parents and Susan were to go to America, his father having been hired to give lectures to the American army for sixteen weeks. The old man had been contacted and agreed to let the Caspian stay with him as well.

"You'll like him, Caspian," Peter had insisted on one of his visits with Caspian while was forced to stay in the hospital, "He was there during the creation of Narnia, and knows all about it. It's nice, not having to hide our thoughts about the place."

Caspian was sure anywhere would be better than the hospital. The few small wounds that he did have were pretty much healed, and most of his time was spent by himself. The exception, of course, being the hour or so he was subjected to inane questions from Dr. Pevensie. Caspian felt odd in his presence, like everything he was doing was being scrutinized by the man in a bad way.

Peter had always laughed it off, whenever Caspian would bring it up on his daily visit, and insist he was just imagining things. It's only when he's the one siting in his father's office under that penetrating gaze of the older man does Peter understand that it wasn't just in Caspian's head.

"How long."

"How long what?"

"How long have you known there was something wrong with you and not told me."

Peter's heart stops, understanding what he's getting at. "Dad-"

"No, Peter, I want to know how long."

"How long have a I been with him or how long I've known..." Peter trailed off, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"How long on both."

"Since the start of term, when it comes to Caspian."

Alec was stunned. "Nine months?"

"Technically twelve months. We were together for three months, and then nine we had school..."

"That makes no sense."

"It will, when I tell you that I found out I was... that I, well, you know, when I was 19."

"You're only 17, Peter."

Peter laughed, "I'm 17 in this life, yes. In Narnia, I lived to be 28."

Alec frowned. They had been researching, trying to find this place so they could send Caspian back home and contact relatives, but nothing was coming back a match. Peter had denied he knew what it was as well, saying that he met Caspian in London. "You know where Narnia is?"

Peter nodded, "It's a different world, Dad. A different plain of existence, really." Peter hesitated, wondering if his father could handle what he was going to tell him next. "I was High King there."

Alec sat back in his chair, trying to take in what his son was saying. "Well," he finally said, refusing to make eye contact with Peter, "There must be a specialist on this delusion. I could-"

"I'm not delusional. Ask Edmund, or Lucy, or hell, even Caspian. They-"

"Peter, You aren't right in the head."

"I am," Peter pursed his lips. "Edmund would know just as much as I would, so would Lucy. Edmund was King and Lucy Queen under me. Caspian is of Telmarine descent, and current ruler of Narnia. I-"

"Peter, you," Alec paused, taking a deep breath, "You can't honestly think this is real. It isn't logical. And if it was true, why would you come back to this, and not stay there?"

"Narnia was done with us. When we returned, the second time, it was to help the Narnians and Caspian save our lands. it was 1300 years later, by Narnian time, but only a year ours."

"And they don't view it for what this is?"

Peter winced at his father's tone, catching on to what he was really saying_. They don't see it for the disease it really is? "_No. I mean, it's not really normal by their standards, but it's not illegal and the ones that did know were seemingly fine about it."

There was a long pause as Alec tried to comprehend what he was hearing. The more he thought about it, the more it irritated him.

"You want to know what I think? I think you have both made this... Narnia up in your heads, to justify what you two are doing. This place, having it be legal, all of it is just your minds attempt to make something like that seem okay. It's not, Peter. None of it is."

"I really love him, dad."

It was his last defense. He knew it was pitiful and wouldn't help him, but it was worth a try.

"You don't, Peter. "

Peter laughed to himself, almost bitter at the fact that his father refused to understand, "I do. You have absolutely no idea how much he means to me. He doesn't even remember anything but the fact that we were lovers, but-"

"Stop it, Peter." Alec snapped. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, studying his hands as he next spoke. "Now, I know this might be hard for you to take, but you are sick. You're making up fairy tale lands to justify your desires, and then pushing them on this boy." He looked up from his hands, "I know he needs you and your brother and sister to remember who he is. It's not like I can do much to separate you two at this point anyway, with me leaving tomorrow. But when I do come home and can do something about it, I intend to get you the help for this... abnormality. And if you refuse my help, Peter, You know what that means."

Peter knew exactly what it meant. _You're no son of mine anymore._ He heard the words loud and clear without his father saying them.

Peter pursed his lips, glaring at his father. "Well that settles it, doesn't it?" He stood from his chair, making his way to the door and leaving the small office. He walked the familiar path to Caspian's room, ignoring the nurse who asked him to sign in at the nurses station.

Caspian was lying in bed, reading a book one of the nurses had slipped him. He looked up from it when Peter entered, frowning as he closed and locked the door.

"Peter, what's wrong?"

Without a word Peter crawled onto the bed next to Caspian, pressed his face into his shoulder, and cried.


	3. Chapter 3

**Still isn't mine.**

The italicized stuff in the beginning is supposed to be Spanish. I was going to translate it, but the only languages I have experience with are Polish and German and was afraid of completely butchering the language.

* * *

"_Why do they keep staring at me?_" Caspian murmured, nodding at a group of girls from Susan and Lucy's school who were openly gawking at him. It was almost sad, Peter mused, how every female student seemed to instantly be lusting over Caspian. He had overheard many sighs about his hair or eyes or body or whatever else they were talking about while they had been waiting for his brother as sister in the train station. He wondered if they would still think he was attractive if he was wearing his Narnian clothing, instead of the normal things Peter had given him so he wouldn't draw attention to himself. Clearly he had forgotten how girls responded to boys, despite living with Susan.

"_They find you appealing, but won't talk to you because you're intimidating to them._" Peter responded, thankful that he had taken Spanish lessons instead of French in school. The Telmarine language and Spanish differed slightly, but they were still able to understand each other while having no one else understand them.

"_I'm intimidating?_" Without realizing, Caspian's mouth fell into a pout.

Peter shrugged, "_You carry yourself like a King. It's bound to make people feel below you. And you should really stop pouting, unless you want them to start going on about how perfect your lips are._"

Caspian rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that formed on his face.

"Oh, look at that smile!"

The boys both looked at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter, having to lean against one another for support.

"Caspian!"

Caspian turned, grinning when he saw who was calling his name. He was more excited about seeing Edmund and Lucy than anything. Where the memories of Peter were muddled and out of order in his head, a lot of the events involving the younger Pevensies was still there.

Lucy bounced over to him, Edmund trailing behind her, and threw her arms around his shoulders for a hug. He picked her up and kissed her cheek, and Edmund couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his throat when he noticed a couple of year 12 girls glaring at his 13 year old sister.

"You'd figure that they were dating you, the way they're looking at Lu."

Caspian grinned as set his sister down, "Well, they have had some interesting comments about my hair."

"It is quite nice," Lucy piped up, grinning, "But I do wonder if they would feel the same way if they knew how fussy you are about it. Do you remember your coronation? You wouldn't let any of the servants event think of going near your hair..."

"Lucy?" Caspian interrupted, looking sheepish, "I don't actually remember my coronation."

"Oh bother," Lucy covered her face with her hands, "I forgot. Sorry."

Edmund cleared is throat, "Pete, do you know when our train leaves?"

"Uh, yeah," Peter smiled, silently thanking his brother for changing the subject, "It should be here in a few minutes, and leaves in half hour. I take it Susan got home alright?"

"I would think so. She got off at Strand, at any rate, with a group of her friends. She sends her love."

"Oh, that's nice. Does she..." Peter gestured to Caspian, who was chatting with Lucy.

Edmund shook his head, "No."

Peter nodded. "Good." The three of them had decided that telling Susan Caspian was here wasn't a good idea. She would probably find out from their father, but by then she would be in America and wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

If Peter was really honest with himself, his reasoning for not wanting to tell Susan was more for his sake than anyone else's. She was still bitter that Caspian had chosen him over her, and he was unsure what she would do if she knew that Caspian was here, without a memory and probably easily swayed to her.

"Peter?"

"Huh?"

Lucy gestured to Edmund and Caspian, who were a few paces in front of them, heading to the platforms. "The train's here."

"Oh."

Lucy frowned, "Peter, are you okay?"

"Yeah, just... lets go before we loose them. I have everyone's tickets."

Lucy nodded, holding on to her brother's hand and pulling him after Edmund and Caspian. The four of them managed to get on and find an empty compartment without Caspian making too much of a scene (though he did cause a bit of a tiff between Lucy and two of her friends who simply insisted she and Caspian sit with them, but turned their noses up at the thought of her big brothers being there) and settled in for the journey.

Caspian jumped in his seat as the final whistle sounded and the train started moving, making Lucy giggle before she announced that she was going to find her friends and left. Edmund stayed for a while, beating Caspian in chess three times before standing and announcing he was hungry and going to go look for the dining car on the train.

That left him alone with Peter. The boy hadn't really said anything since they left London, and Caspian knew what was on his mind.

"You're worried about your father."

Peter shrugged, still looking out the window, "How can I not be?"

"It will be okay, Peter. Your father should come around."

Peter shook his head, "You don't get it, Caspian. It's technically legal in Narnia. Here I could get arrested, or sent to a hospital permanently."

"Maybe he was meant to find out this way. Maybe this is something that needed to happen."

Peter pursed his lips, thinking about what he had said. There was no way he could get back into Narnia, Aslan made sure of that. And without Narnia, Peter had no where to go. When Aslan had told him he could never go home again, he said that he would realize the purpose of his banishment in due time, but the more Peter thought of it the less it made sense. Maybe if that lion didn't speak in half-truths and riddles, and made his intentions possible to understand, he wouldn't be in this predicament.

Caspian yawned, clearly tired, and Peter was glad for the distraction.

"You should sleep," Peter urged, "You're still new to all this, and the doctor said that you would get tired easily."

Caspian nodded, lying down and curling up into himself across the seat, using the coat he was wearing as a blanket. Just before falling asleep, he was certain he felt a kiss pressed to his forehead.

_A hand roughly held his chin, turning his face to a well dressed man. Caspian could tell from the ring that he wore on his right hand and the dark purple color of his turban that he was a Tarkaan. "Fair face, eh? I'm sure he would fit in well with your other... workers." The man grinned, bringing his face close to Caspian's, "I have to admit, it's going to be hard not keeping you for my own uses."_

_Caspian spat in his captor's face, making the nobleman's lip curl up in disgust. The trader just growled, cuffing Caspian on the side of the head as he wiped his face, "He just needs a little discipline, that's all."_

_Caspian could tell the Tarkaan wasn't convinced. He began walking up and down the row of slaves, inspecting them, trying to find someone else who seemed pretty enough for the type of business he partook in. "Where are they from? They look too wild to be proper Calormen."_

_The tradesman nodded, "Narnians, they is. Got 'em up near the past to Telmar."_

_The Nobleman clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "It figures," he sighed, "the whole place has turned savage since Miraz died. The man may have been a bastard, but at least he kept the Telmarines in line. Not like King Caspian."_

_The way he spat out his name made Caspian grind his teeth, trying to stay quiet. He knew that if they even got any inkling who he was there was a good chance he wouldn't make it out alive._

_The man stopped in front of Caspian again, frowning as he studied his appearance, "This one is dressed finer than any of these soldiers... too well to just be a soldier, in fact. Was he wearing anything else?"_

"_He did have a fancy sword, he did," The man pulled Rhindon out from the wagon the slaves had been chained to, along with Caspian's shield, "Oh, and this ring," The man flashed the ring he wore on his littlest finger, "He was wearin' it on a chain about his neck. Figured I'd hawk it in the market, you see. Silver's price has just gone up five or six crescents."_

_He reached out and took the trader's hand, his eyes widening as he studied Caspian's ring. "You fool! The shield... the lion... this is the Narnia signet ring of High King Peter!" The Tarkaan almost trembled with excitement as he looked at Caspian, "He is King Caspian the Tenth!"_

_The tradesman snorted, pulling his hand from the man's grip, "I doubt it. If he's the king, why would he 'ave King Peter's ring, and not his own?"_

_The Tarkaan gave the merchant a sharp look, "The Telmarine's have a tradition of giving signet rings as tokens of affection. And surely you've heard the stories of High King Peter's... preferences?"_

_The man's eyes widened, "You mean they was...?"_

_The Tarkaan nodded, "Those are the rumors that came from the court, yes." _

_A smile came to his face as his fingers twirled in his beard, "So he is King Caspian?" _

"_I am almost sure of it."_

"_Well, well," he grinned, standing in front of Caspian, "Seems you'll make me a crescent or two, eh?"_

"Caspian!"

Caspian bolted up right in his seat, his hand reaching for the sword that should have been hanging at his left hip.

Peter looked down at him from where he stood, trying to lift his suitcase from the overhead compartment. "Are you okay?"

"I-It was a dream. I think," Caspian bit his lip, "Maybe not. I don't know." His hand was still grabbing for his sword, and it took him a few seconds to realize that Rhindon was packed away in Peter's trunk and had been sent ahead of time.

"You were whimpering in your sleep," Peter frowned, touching the boy's cheek, "And you're covered in sweat."

Peter hand moved from his cheek to Caspian's chin. Caspian felt his throat tighten when he realized it was the same grip the man in his dream had on his face. "I'm fine, Peter," He offered him a forced smile and jerked his face out of Peter's hand, "Where are Edmund and Lucy?"

Peter didn't believe him, but decided not to push it. "Ed and Lucy are already outside waiting. We're at our stop." He said sighed, "We better get a move on; Mrs. Macready will have our heads if we hold her up."

Caspian nodded, fumbling as he helped Peter and nearly tripping and falling flat on his face when he stepped off the train on onto the platform.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Caspian smiled and nodded, but for the life of him he couldn't shake the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Ugh, attempting to write while having horrible writer's block just made this come out like filler. Sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

Any shy and timid behavior that Caspian had shown in London seemed to all but disappear once they came to stay at the house. It was astonishing to Peter, considering how long it took him to become comfortable in his own skin once he came back from Narnia the first time. Caspian had gotten so used to this world within his second week that it was as if he had always been a part of it, though he did ask enough questions about how things worked to drive anyone mad. Peter was becoming sick of explaining how electric lights or indoor plumbing worked when even he wasn't really sure.

Caspian was quite fond of Professor Kirke, and in turn the Professor had grown quite fond of Caspian. He had been attempting to compile as much Narnian history as he possibly could over the last couple of years, and Caspian was proving to be a valuable source. Mrs. Macready found it particularly annoying that Caspian would barge in at any moment he remembered something, disturbing the older man. The Professor had also allowed the boys to use one of the swords he had about the house for practice, and although the quality of it had nothing on Rhindon, the three of them could usually be found out in the yard fencing.

Lucy enjoyed his presence almost more than Peter himself. She loved explaining things to him, telling him stories of their time in Narnia and fairy tales and bits of history from this world. Caspian found himself adoring Lucy's company more and more, and Lucy admitted more than once that she wanted nothing more than for Caspian to stay.

"You smiled more, with him here," Lucy had told him when Peter asked her why, "That's reason enough to wish he would stay forever."

But the truth of the matter was that he couldn't stay forever, as much as it pained Peter to think of it. One of these days, he would have to go back to his own world.

* * *

"The Telmarine invasion of Narnia took place in... 1989. It was spring, I think. Or was it summer..."

"Never mind, my boy," Professor Kirke waved dismissively, his eyes not leaving the notes he was taking, "Do you know who helped your grandfather? Or what happened?"

"Caspian the First is the one who lead it, along with his brothers. Emesto and..." Caspian scrubbed his hand across his face, trying to remember. "Alarico. That's it. They attacked by sea first, then by land. The fleet rounded-"

Caspian suddenly felt faint, his hands gripping onto the Professor's desk as his mind flooding with images. The smell of old books, Cornelius' accented voice reminding him yet again that it was spring, my Prince, not summer, April if he wanted to be exact, the annoyed look on his uncle's face as his 12-year-old self forgets the war strategies of his people. It's all there in an instant.

This wasn't the first time it had happened. Narnian history was difficult for him to recall, but the Telmarine histories would come to him so fast that it would sometimes take him a few minutes to order his thoughts and have things make sense. It was like his sword play; he would make a complex move just out of reflex, stop because he was shocked he even knew how to do that, and then get knocked down by Edmund or Peter.

"Caspian, are you alright?"

"I am fine," He said hastily, dropping down into a chair, "I'm just a little light headed. We can keep going. It was spring. April of that year."

Caspian could tell from the look on his face that Professor Kirke didn't believe him. "I think we've had enough for today."

"I wish I could be of more help, Sir," Caspian sighed, slumping his shoulders.

"Nonsense. There is much you know that I would not know otherwise."

"I know, but I-"

There was a sudden knock at the door before it opened just enough for Peter's head and shoulders to squeeze through."I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"No. You're just in time for your lesson, actually. Caspian was just finishing up."

"Oh," Peter nodded at him,"You might want to seek out Edmund, then; he's itching for a fight."

Caspian groaned, "You made a mistake giving him that sword, Professor. Now it seems that's all I'm good for." He stood, stretching, and left to find the younger Pevensie brother, closing the door behind him.

"You're worried about him."

Peter shrugged, his head down, "How can I not be? Something bad has happened to him, though he doesn't know what. And with the way Aslan pulls people in and out of Narnia, we may never know."

"You're worried he's not going to remember being in love with you before he has to go back."

Peter's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "I– how did you-" He tried to force words out, but none would come to him.

The professor sighed, leaning back in his chair. Peter remembered when they had come to stay here for the first time, how distant and almost uncaring the old man had seemed. He didn't understand how he had ever come to that conclusion. Even now, he seemed more amused than anything over this, when Peter's own father had all but disowned him from the family.

"The one thing I know for sure is that true love, the love that's written about, fretted upon, starts wars and feuds and quarrels, never really forgets. Whether you look back on it fondly or not, you will remember. And with the that one looks at you when you're not paying attention, it's definitely the latter."

* * *

Caspian loved exploring the old house. The others found it boring, having all been here before, but Caspian loved finding something new in each room. Lucy was sometimes with him, or Peter, if he was particularly bored that day, but he mostly did it by himself.

Caspian found the wardrobe one day when Peter was busy with his studies and the rain outside prevented him from fencing with Edmund. Lucy was with him, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly as his eyes go over the intricate carvings in the wood.

"What is this?"

"It's Spare Oom." Her voice is too soft, even for her.

"Spare Oom?" Caspian frowned. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't place why.

"This is the place we came from when we first came to Narnia. All the books had written that we had come from Spare Oom, but what I really meant was that we came from the spare room, through the wardrobe. Tumnus just didn't understand when I said spare room."

Caspian's fingers ran along the tree branches carved into the door before they closed over the nob to open it.

Wait, was that...?

Caspian jerked back, startled. The wardrobe was _growling_ at him. He seemed to be the only one that heard it; Lucy stayed still and seemed just as uneasy as she was when they had come into the room.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"It just..." Caspian shook his head, "Nevermind." He was clearly imagining it.

"Let's get out of here," Lucy shivered, "I don't like it much. It makes me sad. And you might not want to mention it to Peter that you found this. He's a bit touchy about it since he can't go back at all."

Caspian had taken Lucy's advice and not brought it up. He had seen how Peter had reacted when he tried talking about traveling back and forth between the two places. He had flat out refused to speak about it, changing the subject completely.

Despite all of this, when he woke up in the middle of the night and found Peter gone from his bed, he knew instantly that's where he was.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

Caspian shrugged, moving to sit next to him in the window sill. "You were gone. And I... I don't know."

Peter frowned, "You didn't have another nightmare again, did you?" He reached up to touch Caspian's forehead, making the other boy roll his eyes.

"No, I did not. And I doubt I would be feverish if I did."

Peter dropped his hand back into his lap, his eyes going back to staring at the wardrobe.

"Lucy said you can't go back."

Peter nodded, still not looking at Caspian. "She's right."

"Do you think about it?" Caspian asked after a few moments silence.

"I wonder about going back, sometimes. He said that I would find the reasoning eventually, but I can't seem to understand it." Peter's features seemed to soften, and he finally made eye contact with Caspian, "It was harder, the second time around. I loved you – still love you – very much, and knowing that that I could never see you again hurt worse than leaving the kingship behind."

Caspian didn't know what to say. "I'm very... fond of you, Peter." It was a sorry attempt, he knew it, but it was worth a shot.

Peter rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face. "Gee, thanks."

"I mean it." Caspian frowned, "This is very... hard for me. I just... I don't know. When I saw your face when I met your father, when I saw you for the first time, I knew that you were the reason I am here. I just can't give you everything I know you want with all the details missing."

"Details... like what?"

"All the little things that made me fall in love with you the first time." Caspian ducked his head, blushing, "Like the strange habits you have when you're nervous, or the way you treat your siblings, or the fact that you have freckles." He murmured, his fingertips touching along the bridge of Peter's nose. Peter sighed, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moved to the back of his neck. Caspian spared a glance at Peter's mouth before closing the gap between their faces, his head tilting to the side just as Peter's lips brushed over his.

"_You're not coming back?"_

_Peter shakes his head, breathing deeply through his mouth in an attempt to compose himself and stop the sobs threatening to come up from his throat. "He said he could never return me to my true home once I left it." His eyes are wide, shocked, as if he doesn't believe what he's saying._

_Caspian pulls Peter to him and presses his face to his chest, not knowing how to respond. He knew that he would probably have to go back, but he figured it would be years from now, or that maybe he would be able to convince Aslan to let him stay. "It will work itself out." He winces the second words are out of his mouth._

"_It won't." Peter's voice breaks, the sobs he's been holding back finally coming,"What am I going to do? What are _we_ going to do?"_

_Caspian eases them both the the floor as Peter's legs give out, rocking him back and forth as he falls apart in his arms._

Caspian pulled away and pressed his forehead against Peter's. Images of that night played behind his eyelids, just another little bit of the puzzle that had fallen into place.

"Peter," He said softly, pawing at the boy's shirt, "Peter, let's go to bed, hey?"

Peter nodded, slightly dazed from the kiss, and allowed Caspian to lead him out of the room, back to the bedroom they had been sharing. He crawled into bed without a second thought, jumping a little when he felt Caspian curl up against him instead of going into his own bed.

"What are you doing?"

Caspian flushed, wrapping an arm around Peter's waist and pressing his face to Peter's neck. "Going to sleep. Goodnight, Peter."

Peter opens his mouth protest before shutting it and sliding an arm around Caspian's shoulders. Really, what was going to argue about? "Goodnight."

* * *

I'm so, so sorry I haven't updated this in a month and a half. School has been kicking my ass as of late, and pretty much drained me of any creative energy. I did manage to come up with a se outline for this though, and it looks like it's going to be ten or eleven parts once I'm done with it. It could be less or more, depending on if I take anything out or rearrange things.


	5. Chapter 5

This is so late, and so so short. Sorry, but school was pretty unbearable for while there, and I had no real time to write this for the last month except for a lot of boring art history and commercial photography finals. Thankfully I'm done with school and will be able to actually update normally now. This is also really toned down from what I'll be posting on my lj, since I always get complaints when I write any type of sex here.

* * *

"Oh will you two stop it?" Lucy huffed, "You're both acting like lovesick little girls."

She was right, even Peter had to admit. He couldn't help it though; things were about as close to being like they were before he left. Caspian's memory hadn't exactly come back in full, but it was still enough. They were falling in love all over again.

Caspian was still unsure of himself, still felt odd sometimes. He knew Peter didn't blame him in the slightest, but he still felt like he was doing something wrong. Like it hurt Peter every time he would pull away or get shy about things.

Caspian ducked his head, hiding his flushed face against Peter's shoulder. Peter kissed his ear and rubbed his back, trying to reassure he that it was fine, that Lucy needed to mind her own business anyway.

Lucy threw her hands up, sighing. _Boys_, she thought, annoyed, before going off to find Edmund and leaving the two love birds alone.

* * *

Caspian wasn't even sure why it finally came to him. One moment he was talking with Edmund about the total trade embargo that had been put on Calormen, something he had remembered in his sleep recently, the next he was on his knees, his trousers soaking wet and his palms cut on the tumbler he had been drinking from.

He can see that archway in the trees and Aslan telling him later on, in private, it was what his father had decided had to pass. Susan, looking lovely as could be, kissing him. That self-satisfied look on her face when Peter looks at the both of them, absolutely crushed that she would do something like that.

It's all there. He can remember the way Peter's lips felt under his own when they kissed the very first time, their hands fluttering awkwardly at their sides as they tried to figure out what to do with them. Their stupid arguments over battle strategy and the affectionate touches and murmured apologies that smoothed any sourness over at the end of the day. The absolute terror of watching him fight Miraz and the heaviness of his heart while watching him almost loose.

"Caspian, are you alright?" Edmund's worried face comes into his line of vision and he doesn't know what to say.

"What happened?"

"I don't really know, to be honest. You started slurring your words and your eyes rolled back into your head and you just... slid to the floor."

"Where's Peter?"

"He should be in the study. Do you want me to go get him?"

"No, no... I'll go. Just give me a second."

Edmund nodded and helped him up, holding him by the waist to steady him. It took a few moments, but he managed to get himself right and to go find Peter.

Peter was asleep, book clutched to his chest, when he found him. "Peter?"

"Hm," Peter blinked, trying to wake himself up, "What is it love?"

Caspian kissed him, hard on the mouth and with the familiarity that he had been lacking the the few weeks, and Peter just knew.

"You... You remember?"

Peter was expecting him to look relieved, if not happy. Instead, Caspian looked terrified.

"I- I don't know why. I was just talking with Edmund. I'm so sorry for kissing Susan, I didn't want to, I promise you."

Peter laughed, not believing what he was hearing. "You want to apologize for that? None of it matters anymore."

"It does to me."

Peter rolled his eyes, but dropped it. What was the use of fighting anyway? "Do you remember what happened after we left?"

"Everything is pretty much in bits and pieces for the last year or so. I know, but it just hasn't quite settled enough to really figure it out."

"Do you remember anything from that night? Any of what happened besides what you told me about the Calormen having you?"

"I had decided to walk up to see how the scouts were doing... I think we were in Lantern Waste, but I'm not sure. I... I don't know..."

"Hey, it's okay," Peter tried to take one of Caspian's hands, but pulled away when he realized they were bleeding, "We need to clean your palms, so they don't get infected."

Caspian just nodded, a little dazed, and allowed Peter to lead him through the house and to their bedroom, stopping to grab some gauze and alcohol to clean his hands. It's an odd feeling for Caspian to have his memory back, something he's sure will take a while getting used to. He's been here for the last few weeks, slowly been getting better, but at the same time he hasn't really been here at all.

Peter raised his eyes from bandaging his hands to his face to find Caspian grinning at him. "What?"

Caspian shook his head, smiling, "I remember something else from that night. It's stupid but..."

"What is it?"

"Do you remember that legend I told you about the stars? That you're supposed to make wishes on them?"

"Um," He remembered something vaguely like that but he wasn't sure, "I think so, why?"

"Well," Caspian gestured around himself, "This is what I wished for. For you here, with me. Well not exactly_ here_, but for you to be with me."

Before Caspian really knows what's going on Peter has wrapped his arms around his middle and buried his face in his neck, crying. Caspian shushed him, rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him.

"Why am I always the one who's crying?" Peter laughed, swatting him lightly on the thigh, "You turn me into an emotional wreck, you ass."

Caspian smiled, kissing his forehead, "I'm sorry."

Peter leaned forward to peck Caspian on the lips, "Looks like your wish came true, hey?"

Caspian fingers brushed over Peter's lips, and a familiar look crossed his face. "Not quite."

"_Those five stars, right there, are considered the stars of the kings. The two at the bottom, the brightest ones, are the stars of the two lovers. You're supposed to make wishes on them, if you see them out before any other star."_

Peter's the one that kissed him first. He doesn't want to push Caspian into anything he's not sure of, and he's pleasantly surprised when Caspian pulled him closer. His hand tangled in Peter's hair, his eyes slipping shut as his mouth slid open.

"Bed," Peter rasped out, and Caspian understood.

"_The one on the left, the brighter one, is said to be a beautiful woman, the fairest fallen star to ever set foot on land. Immediately the Telmarine princes tried to win her affection, giving her lavish gifts and promising to make her a Queen. The oldest prince, who had gone missing, was believed to be dead, and so the king promised the throne to the son who brought home the most beautiful wife. Naturally, they all knew the minute the king set eyes on the fallen star whom ever was her husband would be king. They began to fight amongst themselves, never asking her what she wanted. _

_She fled, then, knowing that none of them truly loved her. She came across a lost blind man, looking for his way home, and took him with her. Because he was blind, He didn't know of her beauty, and treated her as a normal woman. She fell in love with him because of it, and him with her, because of her kind heart."_

"Caspian..."

Caspian pulled him close, their bodies twining together, and kissed him. His shirt was easily peeled off, but Caspian's hands shook as he reached for the front of his trousers. He has done this before – He even _remembered_ doing this before – but he still felt awkward and unsure of himself.

Once they were both naked though, Caspian couldn't bring himself to be nervous. Peter's legs wrapped around his hips and he was reminded yet again how well they fit together.

"_He was the prince? The one lost at war?"_

_Peter's eyes are just begging Caspian to tell him he's right, and Caspian can't help the affectionate laugh that bubbles up from his throat."Yes, Peter, he was the prince. My memory gets a bit foggy here – Astronomy lessons were usually spent learning about old Narnia, you see – But some how his blindness is lifted, and he returned to Telmar, taking up his rightful throne, with the star as his wife. And as he grew old, she began to realize that he would die. So, because she loved him immensely, she gave up her immortality for him. Because of her sacrifice, when their lives ended, they were returned to the sky, and will be together until the end of time."_

Caspian panted against Peter's mouth, holding his hips so tightly he was probably leaving bruises.

"Peter. I-I can't-"

Peter kissed him. "Let go love."

Caspian bit down on Peter's shoulder to stifle his scream, the other boy whimpering as he came after him.

"_I wonder what it's like, to have someone love you like that_."

_Caspian chuckles, resting his forehead against the top of Peter's head. "Their love is insignificant compared to ours. I will love you forever, no matter how far we are from each other. Even when I am dead and gone, you will be a part of me."_

They both curled up into one another, exhausted. Peter dropped into sleep almost instantly, but Caspian stayed up, watching him and silently thanking Aslan for whatever he did to give him this. Finally, he wrapped himself close to Peter, and slept.


	6. Chapter 6

_There were just too many of them to deal with on his own. _

_He was running for the caves that dotted the lower mountains, hoping that he would be able to hide during the day until nightfall and make his way back to either the Narnian camp or one of the small Archenlander villages in the dark. The mountains were a little less than a mile away, and knew that there was a good chance that he might be able to make it._

_His tripped over the rocky terrain for the third time that night, and two of the men were on him in seconds. The flipped him over on his stomach, trying to shackle his hands again as he struggled against them. He managed to get his to get his leg free, and kicked out, making contact with his attacker and loosening the grip on him so he was able to reach for his dagger at his hip._

_He jumped up then, easily slicing the man's throat and stabbing the other in the side. When he was sure they both were dead he turned around and continued running. His heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest as he finally reached his destination, ducking into one of the smaller caves and continuing to run._

_He tripped in the dark, cutting his palm open on one of the jagged rocks that made up the floor. He felt disoriented and tired, but knew he couldn't stop. He hadn't been fed properly since he was captured, the people holding him feeling that he needed to be weakened because of his hostility. He tripped again, his hands out in front of him to catch himself._

_This time, however, he doesn't meet the floor, barely able to shout in surprise before everything goes black._

"Caspian? Wha-?"

Caspian latched on to Peter for dear life, not caring that he was naked. His legs wound around Peter's waist, his hands gripping his hair so tightly it hurt.

"Giants."

"Ah," Peter nodded, realizing Caspian probably just had a nightmare, "We had trouble with them as well."

"Not like this," Caspian murmured, pressing his face in Peter's neck and trying to calm himself down. He was silent for a long while, only speaking again when Peter had leaned back against his pillows, holding Caspian to his chest.

"They have been roaming the woods, kidnapping those too weak to try and fight them off, killing those who aren't willing to go quietly. They sell them to the Calormen as slaves, or to the giants in the north as food.

"As soon as we heard, we set out to take care of them. We heard a pack of them were in Lantern Waste, and made camp just south."

Caspian took a deep breath, nuzzling against Peter's neck. He had never seen Caspian like this; Usually when he was upset it would turn into anger. He actually seemed scared, and it was unsettling.

"They attacked at night, and won. Unprepared men versus giants with a battle strategy are bound to loose. They shackled those of us who lived, and transported us down to where they made their trade, near the pass to Telmar."

Caspian was quiet again, his hands moving from Peter's hair to his shoulders, squeezing. Peter held on just as tightly, pressing a kiss into Caspian's sweaty forehead.

"They knew who I was. They knew who you were, what happened between us."

Peter stiffened in Caspian's embrace, but didn't move away, "How?"

"Because of your ring. I was wearing it on a chain around my neck, and they figured out it was yours. They kept on going on about how I would catch a good Crescent or two because I wouldn't have to be taught like the other whores."

Caspian shuttered, and Peter rubbed at his back, kissing his forehead yet again. "Somehow I got away, and got my armor. They came after me, but I snuck into one of the caves, and ended up here."

His shoulders began to shake again as Peter whispered softly into his ear, assuring him that he was okay, and that he wasn't going any where.

"I'm sorry," Caspian finally whispered, "I think that's why it took so long for me to remember what happened between us. I blocked it all out, because the type of labor they planed on selling me into and they brought you into it and-"

"Breathe love... you don't have to tell me everything."

Caspian took a deep breath in and out, closing his eyes. He felt tired, even though he had only been awake for fifteen minutes or so. The last few hours had been almost too emotionally draining for him to handle.

"We'll talk about this in the morning, okay? You look exhausted."

Caspian nodded, not even bothering to open his eyes. He just pressed his face to Peter's neck and let sleep take him.

* * *

Caspian awoke before Peter, and spent his hour or so of alone time staring at the boy, watching him sleep.

Now that he knew who he was and what had happened, he couldn't help but feel like he should be going home soon. Peter had told him about Aslan's fondness for plucking them in and out of Narnia, and he could only assume that that is what would happen to him. But he wasn't ready to go back to being without Peter, not after he had just remembered everything.

Peter's eyes cracked open, smiling as he saw Caspian. "Morning."

"Hm," he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Peter's lips, "Good morning. Do you intend to spend your day in bed?"

Peter grinned, flopping onto his back and tugging Caspian down so the other boy was laying half across him and half across his the pillows. "Do you think I'd want to get out of bed at a time like this? You know who I am now. And I'm sure we could spend the rest of the day getting to know each other all over again in completely different ways."

"I think we did enough of that last night," Caspian rolled his eyes, unable to keep the grin off his face. "I will admit, it is nice to remember the people around me, despite the fact that I don't know how I really got here or how I'm going back."

"Well, maybe you found an entry between our world and here. Aslan said that the Telmarines came from a cave."

Caspian frowned, "But that does not make any sense. Aslan said that Telmarine's came from an island."

"Well, there could be more than one opening. How do you suppose that the Telmarine's are so much like the Spanish? There can't be just one place the humans come from, especially considering the amount of people within the world. I don't even think anyone had used the wardrobe before us."

"You don't think the wardrobe would work now, do you?"

Peter pushed away the bedcovers, standing up, "It's worth a shot. Err, I should probably put some trousers on."

Caspian grinned, eyeing Peter's naked body, "Probably a good idea."

"Something doesn't feel right."

Peter bit his lip, his hand closing around one of the brass knobs of the wardrobe but not opening it. The last two trips they had made between the two worlds, there was something in the air, some spark of magic that made him know what and who was pulling him in. Now there was nothing, just the heavy feeling in his chest that this was wrong.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Something's wrong. It just doesn't feel like we should be doing this now. It feels like-"

"Like it doesn't want you to open it." Caspian nodded, "When I was taken here by Lucy, I felt the same. Maybe we're not supposed to open it yet. Maybe something's missing."

"Or someone."

"Lucy and Edmund?" Caspian furrowed his brow, "Why would they need to be here?"

Peter shrugged, "They're supposed to be allowed back. It could be possible. When you tried it the first time, it was just you and Lu. Maybe with Ed here as well it will work."

"So we wait until they awake and then try?"

"I think that's the only way it will work, yeah," Peter nodded, "Maybe we should go back to bed for a bit. Just until they wake up."

They could wake up Edmund and Lucy now, but Peter didn't want to waste their time. Instead they spent the hour curled up around each other, Peter's head buried in Caspian's neck, waiting for the enviable knock from Lucy that always came to tell them it was time for breakfast.

"Come on you two, before Macready comes!"

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, kissing the bit of skin under his lips before Caspian stood up, "Are you ready?"

Caspian took Peter's hand and pulled him up from bed, before reaching for Rhindon and the rest of his things, "As much as I can be."

* * *

"You remember now? Remember it all?" Lucy asked, beaming when Caspian nodded. "That's brilliant! How'd you manage that one?"

Caspian flushed, looking at Peter, "I, uh..."

Lucy giggled and Edmund made a face, clearly understanding their brother and Caspian's discomfort.

"How he remembered is not the point," Peter pushed his bangs off his forehead, "The point is that we don't know if the wardrobe would open, and figured that it had more of a chance to work if you two were here. You're the ones that are supposed to go back, after all."

"Did you try at all?"

"No, we figured it would be better to wait for you two to try."

The three of them looked at each other, waiting for someone to volunteer to go first, until Lucy rolled her eyes.

"You three are ridiculous," She huffed, hands on her hips, "Grown kings, and you're afraid of a wardrobe. Honestly." She rushed forward through the wardrobe without second thought, letting out a shriek of delight when she got out to the other side. She returned, poking her head out amongst the coats.

"Come on, it works!"

"But I'm still here. How can it be open with me here?"

"Maybe you're supposed to be here!" Lucy said, still bouncing from excitement, "Aslan can't have planned Caspian being brought here, so maybe you're supposed to come back."

"But it doesn't-"

"Oh, bother sense. It doesn't make much sense to find a kingdom in the old wardrobe either." Lucy interrupted, pushing her head back through the coats, "Come on Ed!"

"She shouldn't be there alone," Edmund said, before he followed after her. Peter could see the grin on his brother's face as he pushed his way in, and knew that the decision to go had little to do with protecting his sister.

"Well, you're next. Go."

Caspian stood behind him, placing his hands on Peter's hips and moving him so he was in front of Caspian, facing the wardrobe. "I will go behind you. If you cannot cross, you will be be in front of me, and I won't get stuck there without you."

"But what if it closes and refuses to open again? Then your stuck here, and Lucy and Edmund there."

"We will just have to risk it."

"Caspian..."

"No. I can't. Not yet Peter."

Caspian's hands were holding him firmly, refusing to let go, and Peter sighed, giving up. Caspian was stubborn, and he knew there was no use arguing. "Fine. Well, come on then."

With Caspian all but pushing him, he took his first step into the wardrobe. Caspian kissed the back of his neck, murmuring encouragement's as he went, until he was finally at the back. His legs were shaking as he stood there, the sounds of the woods and his two siblings laughter filling his ears. His heart felt heavy and his stomach seemed to be in his feet.

It was still open.

Caspian seemed to sense his hesitancy, and wrapped his arms around his middle. "Peter, I love you. You can do it."

Taking a deep breath, he took his final step into the woods and out of England.


End file.
